


Motivation

by lemonade_zest



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: How Do I Tag, M/M, Oneshot, VictUuri, Victuri, Vikturi, also what is beta, and yeah I'm never doing that so suck it up, i always see it in tags, like I genuinely don’t know, thanks to a nice reader I now know what beta is, viktuuri, yuri!!! on ice - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:22:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28737933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonade_zest/pseuds/lemonade_zest
Summary: Yuuri is scared that he depends on Viktor so much. Viktor offers advice based on his troubles finding motivation when he was still competing.Takes place after episode 9.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Motivation

**Author's Note:**

> *edited slightly on 2/4/2021 to change the spelling of names and to improve quality of writing

The realization hit Yuuri like a ton of bricks the moment he caught sight of Viktor at the airport. _I can’t do any of this without him_. From day one, Viktor was his motivation for skating. He modeled his jumps after videos of Viktor online, he watched Viktor compete at the Grand Prix Final more than once, and only with Viktor’s help was he able to pull himself out of the rut he had been stuck in. Then Viktor left for Makkachin, a decision Yuuri practically made for him, and Yuuri struggled. He hardly made it through his free skate, qualifying for the Grand Prix. 

And Yuuri felt bad for ViKtor. He had to travel from Russia to Japan and back to Russia, he must be exhausted and jetlagged. On their way back from the airport, they talked very little.

“I watched from Japan with your family, Yuuri.” Yuuri nodded, jaw clenched. It was far from his best performance. He half wished Viktor hadn’t seen it. It reminded him far too much of the previous season's failures. Yuuri obviously didn’t want to talk about the competition, though, so Viktor didn’t force it. That could wait, he figured, they had time before the final. Plus, Viktor conceded to himself, he knew that Yuuri’s next performance would be better, given that he would be present. 

While the pair’s reunion had been heartfelt, the mood between them soon became tense after Viktor’s comment about the performance. Yuuri, who he had expected to babble about all he missed while in Japan, was quiet, reserved. And it was not in the meek, shy way that he had become accustomed to. It was a shameful, tired quiet that made Viktor want to shake him rigorously. He did no such thing, though, and they caught a cab back to their hotel, thick snow falling from the dark, cloudy sky. Instead of going out they ordered a room service dinner. Viktor had fallen asleep quickly, and but Yuuri was still awake, reflecting on the day's events. It was just past 1am when he, as quietly as possible, slipped out of bed, put some shoes and a jacket on, and closed the door behind him. In the silence, the small click of the door was as the loudest sound ever made, and Yuuri hoped he hadn’t woken Viktor.

He walked down the hallways of the hotel, and when that got old, he left and strolled on the sidewalk. The roads were silent, the snow had stopped. With a gloved hand, Yuuri scooped up some snow and shoved it in his mouth. He always loved doing that as a kid. He still felt like a kid. _I still am a kid_ , he thought to himself. _I still depend on Viktor for motivation_. Yuuri recalled, as he walked, a moment years ago when Viktor was about as old as he was now. He had injured himself practicing a quad, a mere sprain that kept him off the ice for a week or two. Still, Yuuri nearly lost all motivation until he recovered. The thought of Viktor not skating ever again….

Yet here he was. Viktor probably wouldn’t skate again, he realized. Not professionally, anyway. Yuuri made him promise to be his coach until he retired. Part of him was glad he did, though, he wanted Victor as his own, to make every performance of his for Viktor (because look at what happened when Viktor was absent...). Another part of him felt guilty and terrible. Was he holding Viktor back somehow? _No_ , he told himself, _Viktor is coaching me of his own volition._ Viktor had requested he never retire, he remembered. His face was either red with cold or warmth, and a passerby wouldn’t be able to tell which. His head still not completely cleared, but good enough for the moment, Yuuri headed back towards the hotel. 

Stealthily, he made his way into the shared room, took off his coat and snuck back into his bed. He removed his glasses and checked the time on his phone. Nearly 2am. He hadn’t been gone as long as it felt he had.

“Have a nice walk?” A muffled voice came from across the room. Yuuri blinked in the darkness. Maybe he hadn’t been as quiet as he thought.

“Sorry Viktor, did I wake you?”

“No, I’ve been awake for a bit.” Viktor, who had been facing the wall towards the door, now rolled over to face Yuuri’s bed. It was dark, and neither of them could see very well, especially Yuuri without his glasses. “Do you want to talk?” He wanted to say no, roll over, and sleep, but Viktor’s tired yet concerned tone stopped him. 

“I’m sorry I messed up the free skate,” he said simply. 

“Don’t apologize,” Viktor said, sounding half offended, “I am sorry I wasn’t able to be there with you.”

“It’s not your fault, though,” Yuuri explained. 

“That doesn’t mean that I’m not sorry,” Viktor said pointedly, propping up his head on his hand. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could see Yuuri better. 

“I just… I wish I didn’t have to depend on you so much,” Yuuri exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in front of him, laying on his back. “That’s not to say I’m not thankful for you being here, of course I am, but I just feel kind of pathetic.”

“You are _not_ pathetic.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel that way,” Yuri remarked, frustrated. Victor nodded, before he remembered Yuri definitely couldn’t see him.

“I see,” he said, “but I’m afraid I don’t understand what exactly is bad about you needing me.”

“It makes me feel like a child needing his mother,” Yuuri explained, attempting to make his coach understand. “You wouldn’t get it, you’ve always just been great at what you do.”

“You think I did not need any motivation?”

“It always _looked_ so effortless.” Victor sighed with a little bit of a chuckle. 

“Arrogant as I can be, I'll admit that it wasn’t always so effortless. I may not have your anxiety, but I am not perfect, either.” Yuuri wanted to correct him, but thought better of it. Viktor continued, “Especially later in my career, I lacked motivation. While this did not quite affect my performance, as I had perfected my skills, it impacted me mentally. I loved skating… but it began to feel a bit old.”

“So what _was_ your motivation, then?” Yuuri had rolled onto his side to face Viktor in the dark. His figure was visible across the room, but he could hardly make out anything else. 

“You.”

“What?” Yuuri questioned, taken aback and confused.

“Not _you_ specifically,” Viktor corrected, “I’m sorry to say I didn’t know you before last year. I meant people _like_ you, my younger competitors,” he explained. “When I was older and had already won gold, I wanted to serve as an example or a mentor for them. It was people like Yurio or Chris, who were in the juniors when I was at my most successful.” This made sense to Yuuri, actually. It further explained Viktor’s insistence that Yuuri encourage Minami earlier on in the competition.

“What about when you were younger?”

“Oh, I just wanted gold. And I knew I could achieve that.”

“What was it you said about your arrogance earlier?” Yuuri quipped. Viktor’s laugh filled the darkness, prompting a smile from Yuuri. 

“That’s why I envy you, I suppose,” ViKtor said, tone now serious, “you have concrete motivation. I always had to search for something new. You don't, you always have a target. Now you just need to learn how to harness your motivation even when I’m not present.” Viktor blinked, he heard Yuri shift. “Not that I plan on going anywhere,” he added quickly. 

“You better not,” Yuuri responded, a little playful. Viktor wondered if he was hiding genuine anxiety about him leaving.

“I couldn’t. You’re my motivation now.” Yuuri’s eyes went wide.

“Not, like, metaphorically this time?” ViKtor laughed again, but Yuri could hear his fatigue. It was late. 

“ _Y_ _ou_ specifically, Yuuri Katsuki.” Yuuri’s cheeks flushed in the darkness. Viktor felt his face grow warm, too, a sensation he was getting more and more used to around Yuuri. He ran a hand up through his bangs, grinning in the dim hotel room. He knew Yuuri couldn’t see him, and that was quite alright. For once, he wanted that goofy smile Yuuri invoked from him to be seen only by the darkness that surrounded the two. He felt self-conscious, perhaps because he had just bared his soul in a way he hadn’t before. The truth was, Viktor was so used to putting on his “pretty boy” facade that silenced any prying questions. Sure, he wore his confidence proudly and didn’t hide his excitement, but he also preferred not to be so openly vulnerable. Yet, Yuuri had somehow crawled into his heart and squeezed some of that vulnerability out of him. 

Then, he fully realized for the first time since the airport that he had wholeheartedly and unhesitatingly agreed to coach Yuuri until his retirement. He made that decision so quickly, without a second thought, and that scared him a little, though of course he’d never show it. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to coach Yuuri, or that he was dying to get back on the ice competitively. He just thought something like that would’ve taken more careful consideration, but Yuuri dashed all second guesses away. Yuuri made him act impulsively more than ever, which was definitely saying something. Never would he have kissed someone on national television before (for fear of the press), but apparently Yuuri was the exception. 

“Are you asleep?” Yuuri asked groggily.

“No,” Viktor mumbled, eyes heavy, “just thinking.”

“Hey, overthinking is my job.”

“I said ‘thinking,’ not ‘ _over_ thinking’. We both know you win gold in that.” A pause. “Are you going to sleep?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Alright.”

“Good night,” Yuuri said in response, rolling over. Viktor remained facing Yuuri’s bed in the darkness. He closed his eyes, content.

“Good night,” Victor said in Russian. Yuuri, already dozing off, didn’t bother to ask for a translation, having a vague quess as to what the foreign words meant.


End file.
